


Across That Lonesome Ocean

by tertia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Castelobruxo, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Love, Marriage, Minor Canonical Character(s), Moving On, Past Relationship(s), Post-Deathly Hallows, The Burrow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-28 05:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14442294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tertia/pseuds/tertia
Summary: After earning full qualifications as a Healer, Lily Carling sets sail for Castelobruxo to complete an apprenticeship in Herbology and Potions.  But the Brazilian rainforest holds more for her than medicinal herbs, gilded temples, and mischievous Caipora.  Sometimes it takes a journey across a lonesome ocean to realize where your heart lies.A continuation of The Carling Collection, focusing on Lily’s life and relationships after Hogwarts.





	1. April First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After finishing Healer training and completing a brief (and very unexpected*) stint as reserve Keeper for Puddlemere United, Lily sets sail for South America. Her destination, to be specific, is Castelobruxo, the Brazilian wizarding school where she plans to further her Healing education through an advanced apprenticeship in healing Herbology and poisonous plants and potions.
> 
> Lily only applied for the position because Charlie had dared her to do it. She agreed, with the stipulation that he also apply to work on the Peruvian Vipertooth reservation there. He gets the job, and they travel together as South American Adventure Companions.
> 
> *When Oliver Wood is called up to Puddlemere United’s first team, Lily is recruited from the London Quidditch League to fill the Keeper void he left in their reserves. (Lily likely could have played professional Quidditch right out of Hogwarts had she really wanted to pursue that path, but in the aftermath of the war, Healer training seemed more important.) She retires after two years when she’s offered the Castelobruxo apprenticeship.
> 
> This piece begins a little less than a year after the start of Lily’s apprenticeship. The title comes from Boots of Spanish Leather by Bob Dylan.

That spring, George, Angelina, and Freddie spend a month in Brazil, partly to visit Charlie and Lily, partly for George to do some research for the joke shop and Angelina to meet with the Brazilian equivalent of the Ministry’s Department of Magical Games and Sports, and partly for a family vacation.  It’s during this visit that George and Lily really reconnect and rekindle a somewhat dormant friendship, but it also marks the first time George hasn’t been able to visit Fred’s grave on their birthday.

George and Lily have a moment alone that evening, (after dinner, after dessert with an extra shared slice of cake for Fred, as has become tradition) and he tells her that it’s hard to be away from home on this day, but not as hard as it would have been a year ago at this time, or the year before that.  He says that in some ways, he feels like he has to live his life for two now, which is a tall order when the second life you’re trying to live was so large.  He knows Fred would want him to continue to adventure and invent and to cause mayhem and to love boldly.  He would have wanted him to make the trip to Brazil. George looks at his son, at his nieces and nephews, and he sees the bright world they’ll grow up in – a world without Voldemort and the hate he perpetuated, a world that Fred helped make possible.  That thought, more than anything, drives George to live fully.  To live for two.

He apologizes for waxing so sappy, and apologizes more when he tells her how important Harry has been in helping him through his grief.  He told George that the ones we love never truly leave us, and maybe it sounds stupid out of context, but George felt like Harry could understand better than most after all he’d lost.  And it was Harry that made him realize he would never _not_  be a twin.  That not even Death could take that truth away from him.  He’s sorry for waxing so sappy.

"Stop it," Lily says.  "You can feel however you want to feel."

George tells her that he wants to feel everything. He wants to feel deeply.  And not just for Fred, but for himself, too.  He may always be a twin, but he’s his own person as well.  He confesses that he’s filled notebooks since Fred died, notebooks upon notebooks filled with messages to his brother, little notes of things he would’ve found funny, notes like the conversations they used to have before bed when they were little kids at the Burrow, notes that he was going to marry Angelina, and that he’d become a father to a son, a son called Fred, too…

Lily remembers.  She reminds him that he had started the first notebook when they still lived together above the joke shop. 

"I miss that," George says.

"I miss it, too."

"This feels like it used to.  Talking like this." 

"Happy birthday, George."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is something of a stylistic departure from my other fics, and I never really intended to post it for public viewing, but I like the emotions it conveys, so here we are. Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	2. April Second

The following day, Angelina and Lily take an early-morning walk together.  Lily tells Angelina about James, how he's worked in the Department of Mysteries since leaving Hogwarts, and what precious little she knows about the Love Room. One thing she does know is that love is a force, one that even wizards will probably never understand fully, and what were they fighting for (and with) if not to build a world more loving than the one they were all born into?

She gives Charlie as an example.  Charlie, the boy who gave her the nickname "Lily Ember", the boy who shared his ice cream with her, the man who encouraged her to seek the Brazilian adventure they found themselves in the middle of now.  Charlie is someone she's had a deep affection for since she was four years old, and now here they are, alone together in a foreign country, is it so surprising that she might take comfort in his presence?  And Lily doesn't mean in a romantic way, but more of a "isn't it nice to be hugged" kind of way, and to have a hand to hold, and a lap to nap in?  Maybe that sounds weird, Lily says, especially considering her history with George, but -

Angelina stops her.  If anyone understands weird relationship dynamics with two different brothers, it's her.  She agrees that most people don't get it, but it's not their relationship, and therefore it's none of their damn business.  What matters is that all involved parties are happy with the arrangement.

Lily confesses that being so far away from home is hard for her – harder than she thought it would be - and it’s made her realize how much she misses George and the depth of friendship they’d once shared.

“He won’t admit it, but he doesn’t do as well with you so far away,” Angelina tells Lily.  “I think he’s worried I’ll be jealous, but after everything he’s been through, I have no interest in denying him whatever friendship or affection he needs to pad the void that Fred left.” 

“Because we know no one could ever truly fill it,” Lily says. 

Lily is grateful for that Gryffindor fire.  And Angelina's right.  That's how it's been for Lily with Roger, and Kolya, and Devon, all to varying degrees, for years.  Roger is so damn busy with work, and while she values his friendship and mentorship greatly, neither of them think they would make good partners and neither has an interest in pursuing that designation.  Kolya is incredibly busy too, and with the distance they're lucky if they find themselves in the same country more than once or twice a year.  Devon is something else entirely, a boy from a whole other world, and while Lily's Muggle tolerance grows by the day, she doesn't know that she could actually settle down with one.  Sometimes Lily gets the sense that he might like that, one day, but for now they're both too interested in being young and having fun together to worry about it.  When Lily was a teenager, this isn't where she thought she'd be at 27.  She imagined herself following a path more similar to the one most of the Weasleys had taken, but for now, she's so grateful that her life has unfolded in the way that it has.  She feels like she's living in a world of possibilities that she'd never considered when she was younger, possibilities that suit her better than any scripted societal narrative of “leave school, get married, have babies” ever could. 

And her heart swells with affection for Angelina that they're even having this conversation; it's fit to burst when she realizes that Angelina agrees and understands in a way that few others could.  Lily feared being judged for the comfort she found in Charlie when her heart had once belonged to George, but that seemed like nothing compared to Angelina's course, and if she and George could stand confidently against whatever whispers swirled around them about how unhealthy their relationship may or may not be, then there was no reason Lily couldn't do the same.

_The weapon we have is love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Devon is an OC who has existed in my mind almost since I started writing fan fiction back in the early 2000s, but he's only mentioned briefly in passing in The Carling Collection, so I figured I'd provide some quick clarification here to get everyone up to speed with my headcanon.
> 
> James, Lily's best mate through school, is a half-blood with a wizard father and Muggleborn mother. He has one cousin on his mum's side - Devon - a Muggle boy who's a little younger than James and Lily. Devon and James grew up together and are good friends, and consequently Lily crossed paths with him rather frequently throughout her childhood because whenever she visited James during the holidays, Devon was often around. Devon was the first Muggle Lily knew outside of her family and he singlehandedly changed her views on Muggles because he was so cool. He was completely at ease around magic without acting jealous of it, or like he felt inferior, or like Lily should feel like a freak for her abilities. And he was the one who brought her Muggle music, which Lily loved more than any wizarding music she’d ever heard (don’t tell the Weird Sisters).
> 
> Devon will be making some major appearances moving forward in this story, so I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page about who he is. :P
> 
> The last line of this chapter is generally referencing the overarching theme of Order of the Phoenix, and specifically quoting the Harry and the Potters song "The Weapon".


	3. Summer

When James comes to visit in June, Devon is with him as a surprise for Lily. The timing couldn't have been better as Lily has been thinking about Devon a lot recently, sending him letters lamenting how badly she misses him and the London music scene. James also brings his girlfriend, Cassandra Carpenter, on the trip. She’s a Muggleborn American magical historian who has been working at the British Ministry of Magic archives where she met James.

Lily is thrilled to see all of her friends, but especially Devon. They spend several lazy evenings alone having private conversations in the hammock on the deck of the tree house she and Charlie share. Lily tells Devon about her apprenticeship, and everything that transpired when George and Angelina came to visit in the spring, and how much she misses England. Devon tells her about his adventures working as a roadie for the Danbury Shakes and tending bar in London. Lily knows that Devon knows about Roger and Kolya, and Lily knows that Devon is only alone when he wants to be, yet both are pleased at the way the other can find companionship in other people. They disparage the notion that a single person could ever be all things to their partner, and Devon jokes that if they weren't so committed to remaining unattached, he would ask her to marry him. They both laugh, curled up together in the hammock under a canopy of trees and South American stars.

The night after James, Cassandra, and Devon leave to return to London, Lily finds a scrap of parchment on her pillow:

_Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled_

_From across that lonesome ocean_


	4. Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the whole reason I wanted to post this story. I hope you enjoy! :)

Making good on his word that Lily would always have a place at his table, George invites her to the Burrow on a late October Saturday for Freddie, Angelina, and Molly’s shared birthday tea.

The afternoon sky over Ottery St. Catchpole was filled with iron grey autumn clouds, and Lily found the chill in the air refreshing compared to the humidity of Brazil.  She had Devon in tow at George’s insistence and was somewhat worried that he’d be overwhelmed, if not by the sheer magicality of the Burrow, then by the boisterous family within.  Like Lily, Devon had grown up just him and his mum.  She needn’t have worried.  Mr. Weasley had barely said hello to Lily before turning to Devon and dragging him off to the garage to show off his plug collection.

The entire clan was there (excepting Charlie, who had stayed behind on the reservation), and Lily was delighted to see her Freddie, her baby nephew who she could not believe had just turned _three_.  She was happy to see Hermione and Ginny, to hear about Hermione’s past year as Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Ginny’s work at the Daily Prophet in exchange for tales of Charlie and Castelobruxo.  She was pleased to meet Percy’s daughter, baby Lucy, for the first time.  She was grateful for a tight embrace from Mrs. Weasley, for a kiss on the cheek and a hug so tight from George she was lifted off the ground.  And then a soft, knowing smile from Angelina.  It felt so good to be home.

The afternoon wore on with Fleur, Audrey, Percy, and Mrs. Weasley busy in the kitchen (despite Andromeda’s attempts to shoo her away from baking her own birthday cake) while George and Ron demonstrated new joke shop products for Teddy, Victoire, Dominique, and baby Molly (who was hardly a baby anymore, but the modifier that had been used to distinguish her from her grandmother had stuck).  Hermione, Harry, and Ginny did their best to keep the toddlers from eating Floo powder or escaping into the garden to chase after chickens and gnomes. Bill held little Lucy in his strong arms while she slept.  Yet Lily noticed how Angelina hung back, perched on the arm of Mr. Weasley’s favorite chair with her chin on her knee, watching the warm chaos unfold in front of her with a far off look in her eyes.  When Freddie tripped and bumped his head on the brick ledge of the fireplace, Angelina scooped him into her arms and consoled him with cuddles and kisses. When he continued to fuss, Angelina turned to Lily and proposed a walk.  They bundled Freddie up in his cardigan and wellies, and stepped into the quiet of the autumn afternoon.

Angelina carried Freddie on her hip, asking Lily if she was looking forward to being back at St. Mungo’s for the month.  They chatted about work as they wandered in the cool breeze, out beyond the garden gate and the broom shed, past the garage where Lily could hear Arthur asking Devon if he’d ever flown an aeroplane, up towards the orchard where Lily had some of her earliest memories at the Burrow, playing Quidditch with the Weasley boys before they’d even started at Hogwarts. And then they were beyond the paddock on top of a great grassy hill, at Fred’s grave, already decorated with a fat orange pumpkin, and a collection of tiny gourds, and a wreath of autumn leaves hung on the headstone.

Angelina released Freddie who toddled towards the pumpkins in his bright yellow boots, his bumped head healed by the fresh air and long forgotten, as his mother took a seat on one of the stumps that lined the spot where Fred was buried.  Lily sat beside her.

“It’ll be ten years in May,” Angelina said. “And I still miss him so much.”

“Me too,” Lily said.

“Lily, can I ask you something?"

“Anything,” she answered.  Lily loved talking with Angelina like this.  She was honest and open in a way that Lily valued deeply but seldom encountered in others, and she often left their conversations feeling a sense of catharsis, a connectedness at the way they could share their perspectives and experiences without reservation.  There was a purity to it that Lily wished she could have in all her friendships.

“What was it like after he died?  You were here, weren’t you?  That’s what George said.  We’ve talked about it, of course, but he says he can’t remember much from those first few weeks.  Says it all blurs together like one long night.”

Lily nodded, wondering where to start.

“Well, I wasn’t there for the battle, you know,” she said.  “I left with the other students when we were given the chance, and I’m not ashamed of that decision.  I’m no Gryffindor, and I was terrified.  Filch and Madame Pomfrey led us out of the castle through the Room of Requirement to the Hog’s Head, and me and my two best mates immediately Apparated back to my mum’s house in Berkshire.  They went off to reunite with their families pretty shortly thereafter, and I was stuck at home with no news other than what they were saying in the _Daily Prophet_ and on the radio about Voldemort having been killed.  I knew Harry was alive, but had no clue about everyone else.

“It was two days before Charlie and George showed up at my doorstep, and I was so relieved to see George standing in front of me in one piece that it took me a moment to realize that Fred wasn’t with him. George didn’t say anything, and he looked so… _small_ without Fred beside him. 

“I went back to the Burrow with them, and Fred was laid out on a table they’d conjured in the living room, and it almost looked like he was _smiling_ , and somehow that made it so much worse. And it was hard because I was upset – I’d known Fred since I was four years old, and he’d been my friend, too – but I knew what I was feeling was nothing compared to what George was feeling, and that made me feel guilty for feeling sad at all.  Like, what right did I have to feel emotional over this?  What had I lost, truly, compared to what George had lost?  And I knew there was nothing I could do to make it better, to lessen his pain, to fix the problem, and that was hard for me because I love solving problems and I get frustrated if I can’t take action and DO something, and here I was presented with a completely irrational and unfixable puzzle, and I felt so helpless. So I just did my best to be whatever George needed me to be from moment to moment, whether that meant rubbing his back while he cried into Fred’s pillow in their room, or leaving the Burrow all together to give he and his family privacy to grieve.  I don’t think he slept much that first week.  He never wanted to be away from Fred.  He would sit there, holding his hand, talking to him. Bill and Ron made sure he ate. Ginny was sometimes able to convince him to go upstairs and nap for a few hours at a stretch.  It was really hard to see them all hurting like that. I mean…you know what this family is like.  But the way they clung together and took care of each other…Angelina, that was the power that won us the war.”

Lily took a deep breath as Freddie approached Angelina with outstretched arms.  She lifted him on to her lap and Lily continued.

“The funeral was a few days later.  Everyone had helped dig the grave, all the siblings. And Harry.  All by hand, too.  No magic. Then…well, you were there.  A LOT of people showed up.  All of Diagon Alley, and Oliver, and Kingsley, and McGonagall.  Everyone came.  He was so loved.”

“He’s still loved,” Angelina cut in.

“He’s still loved,” Lily agreed.  “I can’t remember much from that day, honestly.  I remember that the weather was perfect.  I remember that Fred was wrapped in scarlet and gold.  I remember being exhausted by the end.  George finally slept that night, and well into the morning, and we all let him sleep. Then two days later he was back at the joke shop.  Everyone encouraged him to take more time, kept saying it had barely been two weeks since the battle, that no one expected him to reopen so soon.  But I knew he was doing it for Fred.

“No one really wanted him to be alone, so not even Molly protested when I moved into the flat.  He offered Ron a job, and Ron moved in as well, into Fred’s room. Ron was reluctant, but George insisted with an impressive determination I’m sure you’re familiar with.  But I could see how hard that was for him, watching Ron take over the space.  So he threw himself into his work, and the shop was one of the first in Diagon Alley to reopen, and he did so much to help clean up the alley and get the other shops back on their feet.

“That whole first year was pretty touch and go, though.  Some nights you could tell he was just trying to put on a brave face, some nights he was angry, or sad, and would just cry into my lap and really need to be taken care of.  Other nights he asked to be left alone, and would sleep in the front room, or I’d go home to Feverfew Vale for the night.  It was tough.  He started writing notes to Fred in those notebooks, and that helped a lot.  There was also one day when Harry, Ginny, and Hermione all came round and we spent the entire day detailing for each other what we’d been up to for the previous year – what Hogwarts was like, what Diagon Alley was like – you know, everything those three missed out on being on the run.  That was cathartic for everyone. 

“Ron started working as an Auror that summer, so he was gone a lot, helping to repair Hogwarts and arrest the Death Eaters who were still at large.  I started Healer training that fall, and slowly, we were all settling into the new normal.

“Hermione moved in with us after she finished her seventh year, and then Ron decided he preferred working with George over working for the Ministry, so he left and came back to the shop full time, and he and George bought out Zonko’s in Hogsmeade, so he and Hermione split their time between Hogsmeade and London.

“It was good for a while, but somewhere, something shifted in me and George’s relationship, and we decided to take some time apart.  There was no inciting incident, no fight, no drama.  We’d just both been through a hell of a lot over the last five years, and we were just teenagers when we got together, and I think it’s likely that we both would’ve grown and changed a lot during that time whether we were navigating the aftermath of a war or not.”

Lily exhaled.  Angelina’s cheeks were tear-stained, but she was smiling.

“Oh, Lily,” she said, kissing the top of Fred’s head through his copper curls.  “Thank you for that.”

Lily’s eyes welled to see the genuine emotion on her friend’s face, and she smiled and squeezed her hand, as Freddie squealed, “Daddy!” and squirmed out of Angelina’s lap.

George and Devon appeared at the top of the hill.

“Tea’s ready,” George said to the girls, scooping Freddie into his arms.  “How’s Uncle Fred?”

Freddie turned in George’s arms and pointed a tiny finger at Fred’s headstone.  George smiled and rubbed his nose against his son’s.

“Still breaking hearts, I see,” George said, looking from the grave to Lily and Angelina.

Angelina stood and put her arm around George’s waist, and kissed Freddie on the cheek as George kissed her temple.  George opened his other arm and looked to Lily, who slid into his embrace as natural as anything as he kissed the top of her head. He hugged all three of them, and said, “Who’s the birthday boy?!”

“I’m  _three_!” Freddie exclaimed.

George and Angelina led the way back down the hill towards the Burrow, and Lily and Devon followed behind, hand-in-hand.


	5. Winter

**Christmas**

Lily spends that Christmas at James’ house with his parents and sister, and Devon and his mum.  (Cassandra is home in America visiting her family.)  That evening, after tea, everyone migrates to the sitting room to digest and listen to Christmas songs and stories on the Wizarding Wireless Network.  Lily curls up next to Devon on the sofa, prompting Erin to ask, “Wait. Are you two, like, a _couple_ then?”

Later that night, holed up in Devon’s childhood bedroom, he puts on a record and joins Lily in the bed.

_You got all the love_

_Honey baby, I can stand_

In that moment, in the soft Christmas night candle-lit glow, with Devon over her, hair down and falling around his face, Lily is reminded of something he had told her once.

_If you want me_

_Honey baby, I’ll be here_

“Would you still marry me?” she asks quietly, an uncharacteristic tinge of insecurity in her voice.  “Knowing what I am?”

“What, English?”

“No!  A witch.”

Devon pauses, looking down at her with an expression she can’t read.

_Everything about you_

_Is bringing me misery_

“It’s just that you said,” Lily continues, “when you were in Brazil, you said if we weren’t so committed to being unattached that you’d ask me to marry you.”

Lily wants to hide, but there’s nowhere for her to go pinned under Devon, so she covers her face with her hands.  He sits up and pulls her with him so that she’s in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist.

_I’m taking you with me_

_Honey baby, when I go_

“Lily Carling,” Devon says, looking up at her. Her heart flutters at the way he says “Carling”, that Irish accent, the way her name sounds sweet and safe in his mouth.  “I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”  _A chuisle_.  My pulse. “I’d marry you tomorrow.”

_I do it for you_

_Honey baby, can’t you tell?_

They set out early the next morning for the Registrar, which apparently isn’t open on Boxing Day.  After doing a little research, they learn that the Registrar requires three months advanced notice of intention to marry in Ireland anyway. They consider England, then, Lily suggesting side-along-apparition to get them back to London for the day.  But it turns out the English register also needs advanced notice.  Gibraltar required paperwork, Las Vegas was too far, and they also begin to realize that Lily doesn’t possess any of the documentation required for a legal Muggle marriage.  After spending most of the morning trying to find a loophole, they laugh and decide it wasn’t meant to be.  At least not today.

So they go for lunch in town instead, Lily lamenting that she can’t do something spontaneous even when she tries, and they talk about wizard vs. Muggle wedding customs, realizing (as they often do when having these kinds of conversations) that the traditions aren’t so different. Lily points out that she’ll be back in the UK for her birthday in a month, and that if they gave notice as soon as the English register reopened the required 28 days would have passed by time she returned. 

“And I can inquire with the Muggle Liaison Office about getting the documents I need,” Lily said.  “I think they’d be the ones to handle it…”

Devon shakes his head.  “No. Let’s wait. Let’s do the thing properly.”

* * *

**December**

“Come on now, Lily, I know he’s not nearly as charming or handsome as _me_ , but Charlie isn’t _that_ bad a flatmate, is he?”

Lily laughed through her tears.  They stood together in the dim, empty joke shop, trying to say goodbye.  George wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and pulled her into his chest, cradling her head in his hand.  Lily was reminded of the night after Dumbledore’s funeral, when she’d come straight to the shop from King’s Cross and collapsed into George’s arms in almost this exact spot.  It seemed a lifetime ago. 

She lingered there for as long as she could let herself, then turned with a final glimpse of George smiling and waving, reappearing a moment later in the kitchen of Devon’s tiny flat.  It was dark, and she nearly tripped over a chair on her way to the bedroom.  Devon was already asleep, so Lily did her best to be quiet as she shed her cloak and unlaced her boots.  Devon rolled over, opening his eyes and blinking up at her with a sleepy smile.

“ _A chuisle._ ”

My pulse. 

Nothing in Brazil could be better than this.

* * *

**January**

A month later, Lily is curled snug in the blankets of Devon’s tiny London flat.  He gets up and puts on a record – _Blood on the Tracks -_  and then rummages through his top drawer for a moment before coming back to bed with his hands hidden behind his back.

“I got you something.”

He produces a small wooden box, and flips open the lid, revealing a perfectly round emerald ring set in rose gold. 

They’re married six months later on the Irish coast, in a small magical handfasting surrounded by their closest family and friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics here are from Buckets of Rain by Bob Dylan, from the album Blood on the Tracks.


End file.
